Sixteen states and six countries later, I returned to Cirque. Truthfully, the world once again demonstrated its small size as I found myself in an Asian nation close enough (in my opinion) to visit my Ovo family in a nearby nation for the weekend. Back to that "return" I brought up: The boomerang began its return voyage and I took an entry-level position with Cirque that placed my former employees as my supervisors. It's a good example of why we should always be kind to those lower in the hierarchy -- they won't always be there. The next three cities added family members to the tree and I'm in Portland...again.
It's rather fitting that I'm here.
My first time living in Portland resulted from the somewhat sudden decision to quit my California life. In those four Oregonian months, I had discovered a city that remains on my short-list of "if I ever settle" locations and I had found temporary entry-level work with Cirque du Soleil. However, unemployment drove me from this magical place and set me forth on tour (A journey begins). Just under two years later, I returned with the tour to Portland and received a promotion to permanent manager. That assignment sent me to the desert in the summer (How to make the summer hotter). Another two years passed, and I, once again, am experiencing Portland in the Spring. I know I've said goodbye to the circus before, but this one is truly it for a few years. I'm not going to accidentally trip across some city limits and find myself in the same city as the big top.
Shortly before that nine months and nine days ago, I applied for the Peace Corps. It was my answer to the search of finding a job that travels, but is a bit more productive to the global community than my current line does. For those who aren't familiar with the application process, it's nearly a year between application and departure (for those selected). It's a process that goes months without updates, and subjects you to phone interviews, aspiration statements, blood tests, dental work, vaccinations, and full disclosure of relationships, debts, mental states, and pasts. They want to know everything. If you are married or in a long-term relationship, you have to provide a notarized statement from your partner saying that he or she is okay with you going. If you're divorced, you have to provide your settlement showing that you won't be bailing on alimony and the sort. If you owe anything, there's a notarized statement from whomever will take over your payments. Surely, these procedures stem from actual experiences during the Peace Corps' history, but it can still seem overwhelming.
In 58 days, I leave. At this point, I don't know what city I'm flying out of. I don't know in which city I'm spending the first three months of pre-service training. I won't know where I'll spend the following 24 months until near the end of that training. All I know is the country. It's something completely different from what I know. It's a language with a new alphabet for me to master. It may or may not have internet access. That last one doesn't matter as much as one might think. The friends that I've found and kept through the past years of madness are the kind that don't question if I don't see them in person for four years. They're the kind that aren't bothered when we go nine months without exchanging a word. These are the special ones: the ones worth meeting in an airport terminal to share a sandwich instead of having them go hungry on a layover.
There's more to say, so much more, but this is just the beginning. As a side note, I've seen this flag almost every day on site since I've joined Cirque. Guess it's time to check it out.
Oh yeah, happy April 1st...
